Blaine adjusted his glasses once more as he combed through the books stacked at the bottom of his locker. As soon as he tilted his face to read the titles, his glasses slipped down his nose again. Frustrated he took them off, bit down on the thick temple tip so he didn't have to put his notebooks or backpack on the ground, and started trading out his textbooks.

A warm cheek pressed against the soft fabric where his sweater was stretched tightly over his shoulder. He shoved his glasses back onto his face as someone tugged at his curly locks.

"Hey, Tina," Blaine greeted cheerfully. He traded out his last few books for the ones he needed for his morning classes. "No Mike this morning?"

"He's sick," Tina informed him sadly. "Flu's been going around the football team."

Blaine nodded, remembering the previous week when both Karofsky and Azimio had caught it and been absent for four days straight. It had been a rare treat for him and his fellow Glee clubbers, not having to keep vigil for the two hulking jocks and their slushies. A short reprieve from the almost daily assault they all silently endured. "Damn, why couldn't it have just stayed with Karofsky and kept him out of here forever?"

"Because we don't have that kind of luck," Tina replied, giving his side a tight squeeze as he closed his locker so that they could head off to class. As soon as his locker shut and revealed the hallway beyond, Tina's face fell and she took a step back. "Uh oh, here they come."

Blaine squared his shoulders at the sight of the three Cheerios heading their direction, each armed with a large cup of flavored ice. It was the usual crew this week, Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez flanking him. He clenched his jaw a little tighter and prepared himself for what was a typical Friday morning ritual.

"See you in class," Blaine said casually, flipping his shoulder bag's flap up and stuffing his things inside of it quickly. His clothes could be washed or replaced, but if his textbooks got ruined he wouldn't be able to read them, and then the school would fine him for destruction of property. If that happened he'd have to explain what was going on to his parents. His dad in particular would give him that look. The one that told Blaine he was a disappointment for more reasons than either of them could put into words.

"Blaine," Tina said sternly, directing an urgent look over her shoulder as the cheerleader trio grew closer. "He made his choice. Why do you do this to yourself every week?"

"To remind him of it," Blaine confessed, nudging Tina behind him and in the direction of their first block class. They had a similar conversation ever week, but he wasn't going to change his mind. Nothing was going to prevent the bitterness that crept into his heart every time this happened, regardless of whether he stayed there for it or not. The intention would still be there even if he wasn't.

"Blaine– "

"Tell Patrelli I'll be late, will you?" Blaine said, eyeing the three slushies now that they were closer. Two green and a blue raspberry. The green ones must be a holiday themed idea. Hopefully they wouldn't be as difficult to get out as the orange ones had been for Halloween, but he doubted it. Briefly he wondered what they did to people's insides once they drank them since they tended to dye his skin and sometimes his hair horrid colors. It probably wasn't anything pleasant.

With a final glance at the Cheerios now less than ten feet away and an exasperated huff, Tina turned on her heel and fled down the hall, taking the long way to their class only two doors in front of Blaine. He'd made this decision nearly two years ago. The same day it had happened. Blaine would stand his ground every Friday morning when a trio of Cheerios came his way with their slushies, milkshakes, or whatever beverage was currently popular with the elite at McKinley. Every Friday he would remind one of McKinley's finest cheerleaders that they'd once been his best friend.

The frozen ice slapped him in the face a moment later. Blaine barely even flinched anymore as the nerves in his face started to tingle and go numb. It was almost as if they were used to it by now, or maybe the nerves were so overused and worn from the constant assault that they didn't work properly anymore. The second and third followed in quick succession, some of it managing to get into his left eye even with his glasses as a shield.

"Merry Christmas, nerd!" One of the girls – Quinn, he was pretty sure – crowed, laughing that high-pitched bubbly laugh that made Blaine's skin crawl. Or that might just be from the ice dribbling down into his jeans. Good thing he always made sure to keep an extra change of clothes in his bag and another in his gym locker.

Blaine grimaced, taking off his glasses and turning to watch out of his right eye as they continue down the hall. As usual, right before they turned the corner the other boy's head twisted just enough to catch his eye. The look was the same as it was every week – completely indecipherable. If he'd been closer Blaine might have been able to pick it apart, been able to see the contempt, anger, arrogance, pity, or regret. It might have been a mixture of a lot of things, but Blaine tried not to think about it anymore than he had to. Thinking about what he hoped might be in those eyes only made his chest ache, because despite everything that had happened he couldn't forget the sweet boy he'd grown up with. Blaine would never be able to forget that underneath the red and white uniform, the perfectly coiffed hair, and the arrogant little smirk the boy he'd once been in love with was hidden away.

The Kurt Hummel that roamed McKinley's halls now was the opposite of everything Blaine had once adored, and every Friday morning he kept reminding himself of it.

The playground at Blaine's new elementary school was a lot smaller than the one in Columbus. There wasn't as much room to run around, or a kickball field for him to play on, but the jungle gym was bigger and more intricate. Blaine immediately headed for the big spider web-like jungle gym at the back of the lot and started climbing up it. He was halfway up when he noticed another little boy, dressed up in a sharp looking suit and bow tie, sitting on the bench about ten feet away.

Blaine slid his legs into one of the triangle shaped openings, swinging them around from where he was perched and watched the boy. He had never seen a boy like him before, with extremely pale skin and shoes shined to perfection. Before he could call out to him or climb down, a small group of boys from his new fifth grade class came running over. It was the loud, overly large boys that kept shooting spitballs at everyone when Ms. Bradley wasn't looking. Blaine's skin crawled at the sight.

"Hey, girly boy!" One of the bigger boys shouted as they came to a stop in front of the bench. The pale boy pulled his knees up to his chest and kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

"Go away," he snapped, tugging on his shoelaces. "I don't want to play."

"Why would we want to play with you?" A different boy sneered. The other two murmured in agreement.

"I bet mud would go with those shiny shoes," the third boy suggested. As fast as it took Blaine to blink, the other two had grabbed the small boy by the arms while the third scooped up a handful of mud.

"No! Get off of me!" the boy shouted, trying to pull out of their hold.

Blaine couldn't sit up there and watch any longer. As he dropped down through the triangle he'd been sitting in he remembered what his brother always told him. Have courage, be brave. He squared his shoulders, and tried to act like Cooper did whenever someone was mean to him. Maybe this other boy didn't have a big brother to tell him to be brave. He'd have to show him how it was done.

"Leave him alone!" Blaine hollered, stepping towards the edge of the web where they were gathered.

The two boys holding the smallest boy down let go immediately and turned to look at him. Once they got a good look at Blaine they shoved the pale boy to the ground, laughing loudly.

"What are you gonna do, shrimp? Bite our ankles?"

Blaine crawled through one of the triangles to escape the web and stopped in front of the biggest boy. He was a foot taller than Blaine, with a big, thick neck and wide jaw. He thought his name was David, but he wasn't sure.

Blaine took a big breath and glared up at him. "I told you to leave him alone. He hasn't done anything to you."

The boy leered at him and shoved him backwards. Blaine stumbled a bit, but the jungle gym caught him and kept him upright. A cry of pain reached his ears a moment later. Terrified that it was the boy he was trying to help, Blaine looked up. He was shocked to find the bigger boy was on his knees, his hands holding his crotch. The boy in the fancy suit was on his feet, his fists clenched at his sides, his face flushed with anger.

"Come on," he said quickly, grabbing Blaine's hand and tugging him away before the other boys could stop them. As he was dragged along towards the trees lining the left side of the lot Blaine saw the two boys drop down to check on their friend, who was now curled into a ball.

They stopped just at the edge of the park, where the wood chips turned into springy grass and the thick foliage blocked out the bright sunlight. The pale boy turned to him abruptly, his bright eyes shining.

"You stood up for me," the boy remarked. His voice was surprised and uncertain, but Blaine nodded silently, glancing down at their linked hands.

"My big brother always tells me to have courage," Blaine said importantly. "I don't like it when people aren't nice."

"Oh," the other boy said simply. He was staring down at their linked hands, too. Blaine clutched the little pale hand tighter.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked softly.

The boy nodded. "I... yeah, I'm used to it." He tilted his chin up, a stray sunbeam trickling through the trees and catching his face, as a superior look took over his features. It was the first real glimpse Blaine had had of the other boy's face, and the bright sparkle in his eyes made his chest feel funny. Like there was a overexcited bunny hopping around underneath his ribcage. "Boys around here don't appreciate fashion. That's all."

"Well I think your bow tie is pretty neat," Blaine told him, reaching over and straightening the little blue piece of fabric.

"Really?"

"Uh huh," Blaine replied, smiling shyly as his chest gave another funny jolt. He glanced down at their linked hands once more. "My name's Blaine."

The boy smiled brightly in return. "Kurt."

Blaine shook himself from the memory as the water pouring from the tap finally warmed up. Thinking about how his best friend had turned into as much of a bully as the young Karofsky had been made him more numb than the icy slushy melting against his skin and hair. He kicked his bag further under the sink he was leaning over, and pulled his glasses off, folding them up and placing them on the counter behind the tap.

He would never admit it to any of his friends, but he thought about that day a lot. About the first friend he'd made when his family had uprooted and moved to Lima halfway through his final year of elementary school. Blaine could clearly remember that year, how happy and relieved Cooper had been when he'd come to pick him up that afternoon and found him and Kurt sitting on the curb out front, giggling and smiling. They'd hit it off instantly even though they were in different classes, but recess had been their time. Under the trees or on the spider web jungle gym, they'd had a blast together. He'd told Kurt things he'd never even mentioned to Cooper.

But that had changed once high school hit. Kurt was a Cheerio now, and there was no going back from that. Once someone joined the high-ranks of the high school hierarchy they didn't climb back into the heap with the rest of the student body.

Blaine wet his hands under the stream of water and started running them though his hair, pulling out clumps of ice and untangling spots where the dye had dried his curls together. Once he was satisfied that his hair was clean enough, he lowered his head, tilting it so that he could flush out his left eye that was still stinging painfully. He took his time, knowing he was already beyond late for his first class and would probably miss the entire lecture at this rate.

After about five minutes he cut the water off, and moved onto his clothes, peeling off his stained sweater and then the button up shirt beneath it. He grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and starting drying his chest and neck of, then ducked under the sink to retrieve the clean clothes stuffed away in his bag. He pulled on an old worn polo shirt, surprised to find that it was nearly too small for him now. Considering he hadn't grown half an inch since freshmen year it seemed strange to have the once too large shirt stretch tightly across his chest and arms.

He turned the water on once more, grabbed another handful of paper towels and started to wash his glasses off and then dry them. Just as he shut the water off and set the rectangular frames back on his face the door was pushed open and a flash of red and white caught his eye.

Blaine stiffened, watching the figure move behind him towards the urinals. Kurt froze mid-step behind him, obviously feeling Blaine's eyes on him. Their eyes met in the mirror. Kurt's expression was cool and haughtily as usual, and Blaine felt his lips curl in anger and disgust.

Blaine wished he could hate Kurt in that moment. The same way he wished the same thing countless times before. He wanted to hate everything from his clean and pressed uniform to his always perfect hair. He wanted to look back on their past together and hate that Kurt had turned his back on him when they'd been so close. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

No matter how furious or heart-broken he'd been over the years he couldn't hate the other boy. It wasn't in him to hate the first boy he'd ever loved.

Seeing Kurt as he was now only filled him with a strange, hollow feeling of regret. He couldn't change what had happened. Not now after all this time, but in some ways he felt as those he'd turned his back on Kurt, too.

Blaine scooped up his bag, a terrible sensation filling his stomach as he headed to the door without a backward glance. He couldn't bring himself to hate Kurt, but he could definitely not like him until he was old and hunched over. Even if he had to take a slushy in the face every week for the rest of his high school years, he would do it if it made Kurt remember, even for only a brief moment, what they'd meant to each other.

The door slammed closed behind him. Blaine missed the small flicker of guilt and pain that crossed Kurt's face.